Good Vibrations Read online

  “It’s possible that I was a teensy bit nervous, but you were so nice about everything. Are you okay? Is there any word on your car?”

  While I personally think that I’m a reasonably competent driver, I had previously had a few lapses of attention in parking lots and one encounter with a parked car that I swear was not there when I started backing up.

  As a result, if I wanted to be able to afford to keep paying both my rent and my car insurance premiums, I really needed this to be something that I could handle without involving the lovely, yet somewhat unsympathetic, insurance company minions that handle my auto claims.

  “My car is in the shop right now. I should hear back by tomorrow about the estimate, but the damage looked pretty minor and, as far as I can tell, I’m just fine. Besides, if someone was going to tap me, I’m glad it was someone as cute as you wielding the hammer,” he replied, chuckling into the phone.

  “Aren’t you kind. I’m not sure that I was quite at my best when we met though,” I replied, thinking to myself that this was progressing nicely.

  Actually, I’m pretty sure that my hair closely resembled a drowned rat clinging to the back of my head, but that’s probably not a thought that I needed to share with him.

  “Really? I thought you looked almost angelic with the snow falling around you. Unfortunately, I’ve got to run to a client meeting in a minute, but I’m really glad to hear that you’re okay.”

  How sweet are you!?

  “So you’re a lawyer then?”

  “Yes, I was just called to the bar a couple of months ago, so I’m officially despised by all of society now. I apologize, I really do have to run, but I’ll give you a ring tomorrow once I hear about my car. Have a safe drive home tonight,” he responded, sounding genuinely concerned for my welfare.

  It was just my luck that I would run into a lawyer’s car, but who calls the person that hits them just to see if they’re okay? Maybe it takes the new ones a little practice before they become soulless sycophants?

  Hmm, I wonder how old lawyers are when they graduate law school? And how did I forget to look to see if he was wearing a ring…

  Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass; it’s about learning to dance in the rain – Vivian Greene

  3. Several dreary hours later, most of which were spent dejectedly wondering what heights bumper repair costs on a Benz could soar to, I was finally free and off to meet my buddy Clayton for a much needed drink.

  Clayton was an I-banker with more money than God. Greying at the temples and resembling a less frazzled version of Hugh Laurie, I was fairly certain he was north of 40, but he had always been coy as to the exact number.

  I had first met him through my roommate Elyse when we had been working together at the same bar and it was immediately obvious to all that he had a certain interest in my wellbeing.

  Unfortunately for him, even though Clayton was a decent looking guy with a lot going for him, I had just never really felt a spark.

  Spark or not, he was always entertaining company, he took rejection well, and I’ve never had to pay for a thing while in his company

  “Hiya beautiful, you look like you could use this,” Clayton greeted warmly me as he pushed a Caesar in my direction before standing up to give me a hug.

  It’s always nice bonus when your friends can remember your drink of choice.

  “You have no idea! It’s been such a long day. Thanks Clayton, you’re so thoughtful,” I replied, gratefully taking a sip of my drink.

  “So, what’s got you so stressed out?” he replied, moving his chair a bit closer to mine in a move that I pretended was strictly out of interest in my wellbeing.

  As I felt the alcohol taking the edge off ever so slightly, I began my tale of woe, “So, you know how the roads were ridiculously slippery on the drive in this morning with the snow? Well, as I was heading to work, a light changed just before I got to an intersection and, just between you and me, it’s possible I may have been taking a sip of my latte and been a bit late on the brakes. I barely tapped the car in front of me but I guess there’s a little dent in the bumper. The worst part is that he’s a lawyer! Can you believe my luck? But he’s been pretty good about the whole thing so far and I’m hoping I can pay for the damage and not have to go through insurance. I can only imagine what this would do to my premiums. I’d be back at the bar slinging drinks, again” I concluded, reaching for my drink again as I shuddered a bit at the thought.

  Laughing at my story, Clayton said, “Anna, how does this stuff always happen to you? So this lawyer you ran in to, you haven’t offered him a personal services settlement, have you?” he inquired with a sly grin.

  “Not every guy has a one track mind the way you do Clayton,” I retorted with a self-righteous huff. “In fact, he even called me this morning just to see if I was okay.”

  “Ha! I bet you our bill that he offers you a massage to relieve your tension before the end of the week. Maybe not every guy is as honest and straightforward as I am, but I think I have a pretty good handle on how the inner workings of the mind of the typical guy.”

  Clayton’s eyes were starting to twinkle and he could tell that he was starting to get under my skin.

  While the majority of my own dating experiences would lead me to agree with Clayton’s premise, the occasional good one had snuck into my life before and I wasn’t yet jaded enough to believe that there weren’t exceptions to every rule.

  “Alright smarty pants, if you have such a good handle on the inner workings of the male mind, tell me why that older fellow over there looks so happy,” I retorted, nodding my head subtly towards a cute older couple that was sitting a couple of tables down from us, animatedly chatting while holding hands across the table.

  “That’s an easy one. He’s telling her that he just heard from his doctor that today was his last day of physio after his hip surgery and he should now be able to perform like he’s 65 again,” Clayton retorted playfully.

  “Oh please, I’ve heard the way you talk about your ex. I think you’re a romantic at heart but you’re just getting jaded in your dotage,” I replied feistily.

  Clayton had been engaged a few years ago only to find out a couple of days prior to the wedding that she had been cheating on him with a close friend of his. He had been an emotional wreck for months afterward and I was fairly certain that the player attitude he had valiantly tried to put forth ever since was all a façade to protect himself from getting hurt again.

  “I think they just found out that their first grandchild is getting married and they are reminiscing about their own wedding,” I replied, beaming a smile at him and knowing full well that my response would set Clayton off.

  “So what’s new in your world, Clayton?” I asked, quickly changing the topic before he had a chance to reply.

  “Well, you’ve met my younger brother Matt before, right?” Clayton replied as his gaze returned to me.

  “I had the pleasure last summer I think,” I replied, doing my best not to reflexively shudder at the memory.

  Matt was closer to my age but from what I could recall, he was delaying his voyage to maturity as long as possible. While he appeared to share his brother’s interest in me and he had a bit more muscle on his frame than Clayton, he sadly lacked all of his brother’s subtlety and charm and five minutes in his presence had made my skin crawl.

  “At my Celebration of Light party for the fireworks I think, right? Anyways, he and some of his golf pro buddies are trying to get me to invest in their new venture, Hole in One Solutions. Basically they want to market themselves to middle age women who want to learn to play and might also be lacking for male attention on the home front,” Clayton said as he took a sip of his drink.

  “The sad thing is, there probably is a market for the lessons. But my brother and his dumbass buddies hitting on rich, middle age women is a recipe for either a lawsuit or an assault charge the first time a husband finds out one of them has been sinking putts on his felt,” Clayt
on concluded, looking exasperated and quickly downing the rest of his drink.

  “So you won’t be out there offering your services?” I said with a look of feigned innocence.

  “Not in a professional capacity, but I’m always willing to work on your stroke any time you’re so inclined,” he responded with a wink.

  “I hear tempo is key. I can never remember though, is it supposed to be fast and hard or should it be slow and smooth?” I replied, playing along with his innuendo.

  “I think once you’ve perfected your technique and you’re comfortable with a nice smooth and steady stroke, then you can speed up a bit and put a bit more oomph into it.”

  “That faster tempo leads to a better result then?” I asked, goading him on a little.

  “As long as your form is still good,” he replied, squirming slightly in his seat.

  “I actually got a new golf skirt recently. It sits a bit higher than my old one. It lets me move my hips a bit more so I can really get into my swing,” I continued, flirting shamelessly now.

  I knew that I shouldn’t lead him on like this but I could tell Clayton was starting to breathe a bit heavier and I couldn’t help myself.

  “You don’t say? Maybe we should get out and play a round or two sometime soon?” Clayton responded, his voice sounding a bit strained.

  “It’s too bad about all this snow. I think it would take some serious heat before we could even consider getting a round in.”

  “Any idea how the forecast is looking these days?” Clayton inquired, optimistically.

  “There’s a warming trend but I think golf season is still a ways away,” I responded, trying to let him down easy.

  “Well, if you ever need a partner, I’m always up for it.”

  “Duly noted,” I replied with a smile.

  Why is it that there’s never a spark with the good ones?

  I’m living so far beyond my income that we may almost be said to be living apart – E.E. Cummings

  4. As I arrived home later that night at my tiny, ridiculously overpriced, apartment, now buried five high-rises deep from what my landlord swears used to be a beautiful view of Stanley Park, I felt a familiar bump against my leg as my roommate’s enormous tabby cat, Kahlua, waddled over to greet me.

  Even when I’m feeling a bit bloated and puffy, whenever I see that big fury belly swaying majestically just above the floor, I just can’t help but feel a little bit better about myself.

  From down the hall, a coquettish voice called out, “Hey sexy girl, you’re home early. Did Clayton strike out again?”

  My twenty-four year old roommate Elyse was a tiny, blonde, pixie of a girl with a healthy appetite for all things male. Her globetrotting parents were our landlords and they supplied Elyse with an allowance that kept her shopping on Robson Street and bartending solely for the opportunity to meet guys and to show off her vast selection of practically non-existent outfits.

  We had met right after I moved to Vancouver from Victoria to enter a legal assistant program. I had started working as a bartender at the same club as Elyse in order to pay for school. We hit it off immediately and had become roommates shortly thereafter.

  “Come on Elyse, you know that Clayton is just a buddy. He did take a shot again though. It’s cute that he’s so persistent and it’s definitely good for my ego, but I’m still not feeling a spark. Every time I’m with him it’s like he’s trying so hard that I almost feel like I’m being hunted and I just want to run away. I want someone to give me butterflies and if I’m not at least a little bit nervous about how a guy feels about me, then there’s probably not going to be any thrill from finding out that maybe he feels the way I want him to, you know?”

  “Anna you’re being so picky! He’s loaded, he can hold a conversation and he’s interested. I say you should give him a chance. Besides, you so need to move on and end things once and for all with icky Ricky.”

  Ricky was my current pseudo-boyfriend. He was drop dead gorgeous, had a great job as an engineer and he sent shivers down my spine every time our eyes met.

  Unfortunately, he also managed to send that little voice in the back of my head screaming for the exits every time he opened his perfect lips and I had to listen to another of his inane stories.

  Our breakup was currently a work in progress.

  Elyse may have had a point. My love life was currently a bit like a car with a dead battery – sorely in need of a jump.

  “I still think that you should give Clayton a shot and get laid at least. Maybe there’s a reason he’s always wearing suits? Cotton’s a forgiving fabric.” Elyse continued with a wink.

  “Maybe, but even if that’s true, I want to feel a connection with someone, not just hop in to bed with any guy that wants to get in my pants.”

  “I’m all for connecting with someone, but sometimes it can be worth it just to try a guy on for size and see what he’s packing. That little Italian guido that kept buying me shots last night ended up being a tripod. Who would have guessed!” Elyse said with a giggle.

  I couldn’t help but smile at her zest for life as I replied, “You know as well as I do that it’s not like I’ve never tried that approach, but I’m holding out for the full package, if you’ll pardon the expression. For now at least. Besides, I sort of ran into someone that seemed to have potential…”

  “Really?! Why are you holding out on me? Dish already!” Elyse replied, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of a good story.

  “So, I was on my way in to work this morning I was just having a sip of my latte when a light changed. I hit the brakes but it was super slippery and I kind of slid in to the car in front of me. I was so nervous I could barely talk. But as it turns out, the guy I hit was really nice about everything. Zero temper and he even called me later just to see how I was. It was a pretty short conversation but he seemed to be kinda flirty and it was really sweet of him to call.”

  Speaking of which, lawyers really need to band together and spend some of their millions on some better PR for their profession. Every movie and TV stereotype had me conditioned to expect that Jonathan would be in a full body cast by tomorrow and mysteriously suffering from a horrible case of whiplash.

  If they weren’t actually all evil incarnate, well, they should probably make that clear ahead of time to the dating public.

  I continued on, saying, “How random would it be if he ends up asking me out? It was actually sort of romantic standing outside with the snow coming down and him being all suited up. Except for the part about my car being glued to his bumper and this old bat running up to tell him she saw everything and that it was all my fault!” I said with a laugh.

  “That is so random!” Elyse replied excitedly. “Do you remember when I kind of merged into that minivan downtown and the mom freaked out on me for 10 minutes and called the cops? I would have killed for it to have been a guy driving instead so that I could have worked a little magic on him. So your guy hasn’t asked you out yet?”

  Prior to Bluetooth speakers being invented, Elyse had had her iPhone practically glued to her head when she drove and I had used every excuse I could think of not to set foot in her car ever since she had sent two bike riders sprawling head over handle bars when an incoming call sent us meandering into the bike lane.

  As a result, the minivan story hadn’t come as a huge shock to me, but I thought the look of feigned surprise that I had given her at the time was Oscar worthy.

  “No, but I asked him if we can skip insurance depending on the quote, so I guess we’ll talk again tomorrow. I kind of want to see him again face to face. I was so nervous I don’t even have a good mental image of him in my head. I haven’t had butterflies talking to someone in so long. Hopefully he isn’t just being nice until I pay up,” I replied wistfully.